The New Dark Lord
by Aerin Wylse
Summary: Twelve years have passed since the battle for Hogwarts, and a new shadow lurks around the corner. Join American wizard, Aerin Wylse, as he breaks curses, kills evil wizards, and makes Aunt Minnie's life a living hell.
1. Coffee, Donuts, and the Dark Arts

Coffee. Black Coffee, no sugar. It was a bad morning and his day was just going to get worse, he could already tell. McGonagal had contacted him last night around eight, stating that she would be by to visit sometime the following morning. Little did the American wizard know, the english head mistress would be showing up at 6:00... through the floo... with a grumbling blonde in tow. So, the blacker the better.

Aerin Wylse had been sleeping soundly when the bright green flame flashed brightly in his fireplace, Minerva stepping out quickly, followed closely by a rather attractive, rather agitated, blonde woman. "Minerva?" The man grumbled, sitting up slowly, theblanket falling to reveal a scar riddled, sporty torso. "You said morning... not the crack of dawn." The elder woman looked a little baffled at the comment, then glanced to a clock on the wall as her cheeks flushed quickly. "Oh dear... It would seem that I made a slight miscalculation. It was Eleven in the morning when Miss Lovegood and I stepped into the Headmaster's floo. I failed to take into account the time gap. I apologize for the inconvenience."

Luna Lovegood was still having trouble peeling her eyes from the man's chest. Ink covered a majority of his skin, But the most noticeable tatoo of all was the flames coming down from his left shoulder, with smoke curling up under his chin. Her gaze was broken, however, when the man cleared his throat. "Umm, sorry, ladies... But I would love a cup of coffee, and unless you want an eyefull I would suggest you leave the room..." Minerva and the young Miss Lovegood exited quickly and Aerin stood, slowly stretching, his battle scarred body aching in the morning hours. The last wizard war had taken it's toll on the defense specialist, but itn was nothing he couldn't take. The tall, somewhat slender man threw on jeans and a mostly clean white shirt, then brushed the black hair from his face. He really should get it cut.

Aerin walked into the kitchen to find the two women bickering quietly across the table at each other, a fresh pot of straight black coffee sitting on the table. The damn thing read his mind. Coffee, he thought. Black coffee, no sugar. He glanced from Minerva to the blonde. Yeah, the blacker the better. He gingerly took his seat at the head of the table, dark rings around his sharp, green, sleep depreived eyes. He poured a mug of coffee and immediately started sipping at it. "Okay, Minerva. What on God's green earth could be so important that you woke me up at six in the damn morning?" The headmistress looked at him a bit indignantly. "Firstly, young man, I know for a fact that your mother would never let you speak to her like that." Luna snickered quietly, then Minerva continued.

"I'm visiting today to offer you a job at Hogwarts. We never seem to be able to hold onto a Defense Against the Dark Arts proffesor, and you were a defense specialist in the war. We could use someone with a little experience." Choking on his coffee, Aerin just stares wide-eyed at Minerva. "Of course this position comes with a title. You would be the head of Gryffindor. I can no longer juggle my duties as headmistress and my duties with Griffindor House." Finally able to breath again, Aerin finaly interupts the woman. "Oi... No, no, no. First of all, preteens? Raging horomones? Kill me now. Secondly, I can't teach DA! I can't even use a damn wand. I do magic nonverbally, and I've never tought anyone anything. I'd sooner go back to war than be a DA teacher. Finally, who's the pretty blonde and why's she here?"

"The pretty blonde, as you so fondly out it, is Miss Lovegood. She is the head of Ravenclaw House. She is also going to be your guide during your first year teaching at Hogwarts. Is this going to be a problem, ?" The male looks at the two women, carefully weighing his options. "Oh fine, Minerva, you know I can't say no to you. But I will do this my way, no wands, no words, and my own brand of discipline. American magic is vastly different from the British variety. Is this something you would be able to allow as the headmistress?" Minerva looks a bit unnerved at this, but she clears her throat and stares the man down. "If those are your demmands, then I suppose they will do. You start next Monday, bring any clothes you may need. Full ammenities will be provided in your office and your living quarters."

Young miss Lovegood silently watched the conversation, still slightly immersed in the man's body. She had never really felt this way about a man before, as she had always been a bit put off by people, perferring the company of books and conspiracy pamphlets. She was an odd one, at least that's how Proffesor McGonagal put it. But this man seemed different, there was deffinately something odd about him, and she would get to the bottom of it.  
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	2. Chapter 2: Farewell

Aerin Wylse was 100%, positively worn the hell out. It had only taken a few hours to pack all of his clothes and personal affects, but his electronics were a different story. Aerin was vastly dependant on his laptop and video-games, and had customized the inner workings to be well insulated against the more sensative machinations of magic. The magical communities of America and Great Britain were vastly different, as the British side had barely evolved past the Victorian Era. The American Magical world, on the other hand, had evolved along with the non-magical side, incorperating thereselves in with the muggles smoothly without being discovered.

These advancements made for a different view on magical order. American witches and wizards were often reffered to as mages or warlocks, and they didn't use wands very often, unless a buffer or precise aim was required for the more... delicate, spells. Using this wordless variety of magic made battle and duels unpredictable, as well as far more devastating. Every country, in fact, has small differences in it's magical community, varrying generaly in very small ways, as in the wording for spells, the materials for wands, and the laws of seperate wizarding communities.

'Well,' he thought to himself,shaking his head to clear his mind, 'Perhaps I really can teach... Can't let Minerva find out though. She'd never let me live it down.' After re-checking to make absolutely sure that all of his luggage was completely ready for travel, Aerin steadied himself and concentrated on a large grey building, it's image filling his mind as he spun on his heel, apparating to the front of the Blak Hand compound. After quickly regaining his balance, he shook the fog from his head. He truly hated the experience of apparating, but it was something that he had to deal with.

There were more important matters at hand than a little motion sickness though. He had a million dollar private military compound to run, and he couldn't do that in Scottland. There was only one person he could trust to do it for him though, and there was only one place he could be. Stepping proudly through the double doors that served as the entrance to the large, rather generic looking building, Aerin smiled to himself. His headquarters had always been a bit lax as far as rules whent, and as a result, his employees stayed happy and productive. He had never seen the compound this busy though. People were rushing around, trying to accomplish God knows what, trampling over flyers that littered the floor. He was doing himself a favour honestly, leaving like this. Things were about to get even crazier, for only two words could explain the massive wave of protection requests and gaurd posts that were piling up on the front desk. Tourist Season. The one issue with having a compound in Florida.

Making his way through the crowd of busy desk jockies, he entered the main office of the building, knocking on one of the doors located in the small waiting room. Without waiting for a response, he opened the door and strode right in to find Jason Grymes with a glass of whiskey in his hand. The buff man raised an eyebrow at this, smile lightly to himself. "Sup, boss?" Came his gruff greeting. Aerin chuckled lightly at his second in command. "Drinking on the job, are we, Jason?" The other man flushed lightly at this and looked up at his friend. "It's not entirely my fault, sir. If you had to deal with the new recruits and all the new requests for the tourist season, you'd be drinkin' too." Aerin laughed openly at that. "Wasn't your fault? What, did the bottle just poof into your mouth? Probably conjured it there, ya damn drunkard. And cut that 'sir' shit, call me Aerin, like I told you. I'm three years younger than you, and we've been friends since before the bomb dropped." Jason was one of Aerin's oldest and closest friends. They had met on one of the military bases where Aerin's father was stationed and they both entered service together after the bombing that killed so many of their family and friends. Aerin had blazed through the rankings despite his young age and Jason had traveled shortly behind him, though Aerin always remained as the larger male's superior. They had been through the last wizard war together, and that sealed their bond.

Jason reached out, nudging Aerin's arm. "Oi, what are ya daydreaming about, Little-Bit?" Aering shakes his head once more, shaking away the memories before sitting across from the other soldier. "Jason, there's something I have to do. I'm gonna need to leave for about a year, and you're going to have to take over the compound until I return. Can I count on you to do that?" The larger male sets a hand upon the smaller's shoulder. "Yeah I can do that, man. It will give me a chance to whip these punks into top shape. When are you leaving? Next month, the month after?" "Monday." Jason withdrew his hand, his face growing dark. "So, you're telling me that you, the best damn battle-mage I've ever seen, are going to leave, during our busiest month of the year, while we're training new recruits, and you don't even have the common decency to give me a weeks notice? What's so important that you have to up and leave all of us behind? You have a duty to this company, Wylse." Aerin nods in agreement, his face solemn. "Yeah, but my family comes first, Jay. My Aunt Minerva has asked me to run one of her classes this year. She is relying on me and I won't let her down."

"So, just because your mom's estranged sister, who you've only met once or twice, is more important than your multi-million dollar military operation?" A dark, sad look crossed Aerin's face and Jason realized all too late what he did wrong. "She's the onlyfamily I have left, Jay. I have to do this for her, without any questions. She was there after the bomb... and she was there after dad died in the war." "I'm sorry, Aerin... I didn't mean it like that. It's just... It feels like your leaving all of this behind. But I understand, and if this is what you want, then go for it. I'm here for you, man. One hundred percent." After a quick, very manly hug, Aerin left the compund in Jason's capable hands and set out to see to some final preperations.

His next destination was Gamestop, where he spent 2 hours talking to the staff about his departure. They all knew him by name and he was considered the store's #1 customer. Eventualy he came back out of the store, roughly two-hundred dollers poorer with three different bags of merchandise. He was a soldier, and had his own mercenary compound, but at heart, in the true center of his being, he was a gamer, a techie, a 100% bonafide Grand Nerd Overlord. After a quick aparition back to his appartment, concealed from muggle eyes of course, he hops in his car and spends the rest of the day driving around town, saying farewells to friends. Apon arriving back home, he decides to take one last trip before departing.

Reaching beside his bed and grabbing a family portrait that was taken shortly after his ninth birthday, he smiles wistfully to himself. The portkey responds to his magic, sending him to the one place he felt at peace. The memorial cemetary was oddly empty, at least the area around his family's graves. He approached slowly before kneeling in front of plots. "Hey you old coot. I guess I'm finaly gonna get my chance to torture some poor kids the same way you used to torture me. I won't let you down. Mum... I know you didn't know Aunt Minnie very well, but she spoke highly of you. She looks so much like you it isn't even funny, I guess you both get it from grandma." He moves to the third gravestone, the smallest of the three, and sets a hand on it's front. "Hey sis... I know you didn't get much of a chance at life, and I'm sorry about that, but you had a blast while you were here, and that's what counts. I've been living my life for you, and I will never forget the time we had." The frazzled man stood and took a few steps back, daydreaming of days past, and smiled half-heartedly, a single tear sliding down his cheek. "Goodbye."


End file.
